


Ours Is The Fury

by crossingwinter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (Orys x Argella inspired), Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire Fusion, F/M, but it is backdrop and the fic is about healing from it, ←there is stuff that constitutes sexual assault as the backdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21559531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: Rey was tasked with taking Storm's End for her king.  She defeated the Storm King Snoke in the Rainwood, but when she proceeded to the castle itself, preparing for a long siege, things did not go to plan.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 47
Kudos: 211
Collections: November Va-Rey-Ity





	Ours Is The Fury

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dalzo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalzo/gifts), [commandercrouton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercrouton/gifts).



> For Ruby and Marissa <3 
> 
> Thanks Jeeno for betaing!

“My lady.” Rey looked up from the map. Above her head, the oiled fabric of the tent pattered from the raindrops, soothing and methodical. Tallie stood there, her helm under her arm. Water dripped in rivers from her scale armor. “He defies.”

Rey sighed.

“I’m not surprised,” she told the commander. “Our king did warn us.”

Tallie grimaced. “What are your orders?”

“Hold our siege lines—for as long as it takes. Finn will have Storm’s End.”

“Kylo Ren seems determined that you will not.”

Rey raised her eyebrows at Tallie. “Is that misgivings I hear in your voice, Commander?”

“No, my lady,” Tallie said at once. “Merely that Storm’s End is well fortified. Her walls are thick, and I am sure her rations are strong. She sits at the edge of the sea and—”

“And we have ships coming down from Dragonstone with Fire and Blood,” Rey shrugged. “She won’t have fish for long. When they start eating one another, they will break.”

There was a finality to her voice that Tallie heard. “My lady,” she said, bowing her head, and Rey turned back to the map.

_ So Kylo Ren will not bend,  _ she thought idly. It has been four days since she had defeated Snoke in the Rainwood. Four days, after which she had forgotten what it was to be dry. It was as though Snoke had cursed the skies when he’d fallen. 

_ What will Kylo Ren be?  _

She knew only a little of him. He had fled his mother’s house in Riverrun as a boy, had shed his father’s name, forsaken his titles, and become a page to the Storm King. The Storm King had, after a time, named him prince, and heir—far more solid a destiny than the petty quarrels of small river kings.

His mother had been the first to declare for Finn’s conquest, and had been rewarded with the title Lady Paramount of the Trident. His father had helped bring them the Vale. His uncle, Luke Skywalker, was a hero like one of the songs from the Age of Heroes, a paragon of all that was good in this world. But Ben Solo…

_ He is not Ben Solo,  _ Rey told herself firmly.  _ And he won’t be Storm King for very long. _

-

_ His loss,  _ Finn had said when Snoke’s reply had been sent to them. Rey looked down at the letter in her hands.

_ That baseborn girl will not have my Prince of Stormclouds, and you will not have my sword. _

Finn had been kind. A brother in arms and in deeds, if not in blood. His was the Dragon’s blood of Old Valyria. And Rey…

Rey had washed up on shore as a child, had been thrown to the sea by slavers who had thought her dead. How she’d ended up in their possession, she hadn’t understood—couldn’t articulate to the prince of the blood who had found her on the shores. But he’d been kind to her where they had not, and she had known even then she’d serve him leally unto her death. 

And when Finn had decided to end the wars that had torn Westeros for centuries, to protect the smallfolk from their lords and unite them all under the reign of one king, Rey had not hesitated even a heartbeat before swearing her sword to him.

_ I’d hoped to have a good seat for you,  _ Finn had sighed.  _ But I’ll find you another one. The Stormlands would have been nice, but anyone who speaks of you thusly does not meet with my approval. _

_ His loss,  _ Rey thought as she looked into the fire. She should sleep, but with the thunder rolling nearby, she doubted it would happen. Snoke had lost everything because he’d refused to bend.  _ The rivers bend to the land around them, not the other way around,  _ Lady Leia had said when she had met Finn,  _ and the terrain of the Kingdoms is changing, your grace. So too must the rivers. _

Would her son be as stubborn as the man he’d claimed for a father, would he break rather than bend? Or did any of the river remain in his heart?

-

Storm’s End rose in the distance, thick-walled and wide. Rey rode at the head of her column, her hands gripping her reins lazily, Dark Sister at her back. It was the lightest sword she’d ever wielded, an honor given her by her king.  _ You are my strong right arm,  _ he’d told her when he’d presented it to her. She had not failed him in battle and now…

She wondered if Kylo Ren would face her in the field. He was young and healthy, unlike Snoke. He was strong, and proud. He might demand single combat in a foolish attempt to bargain. He would like as not underestimate her as so many men in this land did. 

“My lady,” Tallie said and Rey glanced over her shoulder, then followed her pointed hand to the white banner that was rippling above the main gate. 

_ Surrender. _

So soon?

A trap?

But no, these Westerosi lords were proud. Surely Ren wouldn’t surrender and call it a trap to lure her in.  _ I’ll take his bread and salt before entering, though, just to be safe.  _ There wasn’t a single one of her king’s allies who had said a good word of Snoke, and this man had chosen Snoke over his own blood. 

They approached the gates of the castle and Rey paused. They were open and there was a line of lords standing there, banners being held behind them by squires. She recognized the banners. These were men who’d fought at Snoke’s side and fled when her vanguard had broken his line. Their men had died in the rain and mud and now they were here and—

There was a man in chains, on his knees in the dirt, and naked as he was on his nameday.  There were bruises on his chest and face. His chest was—oddly—bare of any hair at all, which made the dark thatch at his groin that much more eye-catching. Rey jerked her gaze away from him, but not before she’d taken note of his manhood hanging long and thick between his legs. .

“Lady Rey,” said a lord with red hair and a pinched expression. “We give you Kylo Ren. Storm’s End is yours.” 

“I thank you,” she said, her gaze shifting to the banner that stood at his back. Lord Hux, who had born Snoke’s favor. Something akin to distrust pitted in her stomach and she returned her gaze to Kylo Ren. He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes—one of them blackened, the other with a horrible slice running across it and down his cheek to his shoulder blade—were locked on the legs of her horse. 

“He is for you to do with as you please,” Hux continued. “Bring him to the king, or kill him, or send him to the Wall—or to his mother,” his lips twitched in a vicious grin, “we leave him in your hands.”

Rey dismounted. She walked forwards towards the gathered stormlords. They were smiling at her, proud of themselves. Her eyes dropped once again to the defeated Kylo Ren. 

_ Leia’s son. And Han’s. _

He refused to look at her. She could not blame him. She would refuse to look at him if she were in his stead. Why look at the hand that will slap, the sword that will cleave you in two if in looking away, there is defiance rather than cowardice?

_ And what if I don’t slap him? _

She took off her cloak. It had once been white, but after the rain and mud was now the color of sand. She wrapped it around his shoulders and his eyes snapped up to hers, confused.

“Will you rise, my lord?” she asked him quietly, extending her hand.

He stared at her for a long while, his eyes a deep, dark black. Then he stood, her cloak falling around his shoulders and covering his nakedness from the army at her back. He was much taller than she’d expected, now that he was no longer on his knees.

“The keys?” she asked Lord Hux, who was staring at her rather as though he’d swallowed all the lemons in Dorne. He handed them to her and Rey led Kylo Ren back into his castle.

“Where is a good place to talk?” she asked, looking up at him. He was watching her with unfathomable eyes. Then he began to walk, and she followed him, up a set of stairs to a room in a tower.

There were several seats in it, cushioned and comfortable-looking. The window opened out over the sea and the sky beyond was clearing from a heavy grey into a clear crystal blue. “Please sit,” Rey told him before going to the door. A servant had followed them and Rey knew without knowing that Hux had sent the boy to listen at the keyhole. “Please bring me a basin with water, and a cleaning cloth,” she said calmly. “And if your maester has a case of salves, I’d have those as well.”

She did not wait for the boy to respond before returning to the room and closing the door. Kylo Ren was still standing, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. “Please sit,” she said again. “You look tired.”

“As do you.” It was the first time she had heard him speak, a deep rumbling voice that made her think of his bared chest once again. 

“Perhaps we shall both rest soon. Sit.” And she sat in a chair, somehow sensing he would not sit before she did. She was right. The moment she was settled, he, too, settled in a seat. “I don’t suppose there are any details you’d like to give me of last night that I can’t assume.”

His face twisted into a grimace. “Congratulations on your victory, my lady. I wouldn’t trust Hux as far as I could spit were I you.”

Rey nodded. “Then I shan’t.” And surprise crossed his face. Then his eyes narrowed.

“And why would you listen to any advice I give you? Are you a fool?”

Rey shrugged. “I see no reason why I shouldn’t listen to you.”

His eyebrows flew up. “I’m the son of a man you killed less than a week ago.”

_ You’re not _ , Rey did not say. Something told her now was not the moment. 

“And you also have ample reason not to trust Hux. I’m a stranger, a conqueror, and serve a king Hux defied. Why should he seek my favor more than yours?”

Kylo sat there quietly for a long moment. He looked as though he was about to speak when there was a knock on the door. 

“My lady,” the page said, opening it. He carried a tray with a basin of water, a towel, and a leather case. 

“Thank you,” she said, taking it from him. “Off you go. I can take it from here.”

The page bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him. She heard him scamper away down the hall.

Then she settled herself on the floor at Kylo’s feet and unshackled his ankles. The skin was red and raw underneath where the iron had been. She dipped the towel into the water to wash away some of the blood and he let out a low hiss between his teeth. She looked up and her eyes locked with his and she saw the question there seconds before it burst out from his lips.

“ _ Why? _ ”

“Why what?”

“Why did you cover me, and bring me here, and clean my wounds?  _ Why _ ?”

“I see no reason to humiliate you further,” she shrugged. “You have been defeated.”

“I could strangle you with these chains,” he said, lifting his wrists and jangling his bonds in her face.

“Why haven’t you, then?” she asked, reaching for one of the salves. She tapped it onto the raw skin and began to rub, looking back up at him. “Go on, then? Yours is the fury, is it not? Strangle me and have done with it. Your men will see you strong in your defeat.”

“And do you think your king wouldn’t burn all the stormlands to the ground if I did that?”

“You were willing to stand defiant last night. What changed?”

And a shadow crossed his face. He looked away from her.  _ His men deserted him. _

“Don’t pity me,” he growled. He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were on the window, staring out at the sea beyond. “Don’t fucking pity me.”

Rey shrugged and put more salve on his ankles. “Then I shan’t,” she shrugged. “Kindness isn’t pity, though. I don’t know who told you that, but they were wrong.”

“My father wasn’t wrong,” he huffed, drawing his ankle away from her hands and she rolled her eyes and grabbed his foot and pulled it back to her so she could continue to soothe the raw skin.

“He was,” she replied evenly. “He was wrong, and he failed, and he died for it.”

“He died for his defiance of your king, not—”

“Not knowing what kindness was and wasn’t?” Rey demanded. “I’ve heard what his kindness was. If you think his kindness was true kindness, of course you’ll consider it pity, or weakness. His kindness wasn’t kindness.”

“Oh, and I suppose you think that Lady Organa’s kindness is true kindness?” he demanded in a low voice and for the first time she heard something deadly in his tone. “I know she rides the riverlands for your king. You think that she is  _ kind, _ don’t you?”

“Kinder than Snoke,” she replied defiantly.

“There is kindness in honesty,” he snarled at her. “And my  _ mother _ was ever the liar. Her  _ kindness _ was a poison, and it nearly killed her only son.”

His chest was heaving, his face flushed and it was as though something had broken. 

“Fine,” she replied sharply. “You want my honesty? Here’s my honesty. You have a mother who mourns the loss of you, and a father who dreaded that you might face my sword but wouldn’t say as much. You have a home to the north you do not want and a castle full of lords who would skin you and present you naked to me as a prize, rather than keep you for their king. You’ve turned your back on—”

“On parents who picked my uncle over me. My uncle tried to murder me when I was barely more than a boy—their son and heir—and yet they picked him over me.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Rey’s heart thudded in her ears. Surely.  _ Surely _ he did not mean—

“That’s not true,” she said.

“Isn’t it? You think that the great hero Luke Skywalker couldn’t possibly want to murder his own nephew? I woke one night with his Valyrian steel at my throat, and if I had not caught him unawares and fought back, it would have been Hux you’d need to take the castle from, not me.” His eyes flicked between each of hers. “You don’t believe it. Then you’re a fool.” And he reached a hand up towards his neck—the side that hadn’t been cut open by Hux and the other stormlords when trying to subdue him. There was another scar there. Just a pinprick, but definitely from a blade, just at the base of his throat. “He did it.”

“Your parents can’t have known,” Rey replied. “They can’t have. They don’t know why you fled Riverrun.”

“They don’t know?” And he laughed. “Then you’re a fool. My mother is a  _ liar _ . She—”

“Wept and begged me to spare your life if I could,” Rey cut him off. “She wanted me to bring you home.”

He stared at her. “You’re like her in that. Poison over truth, then. Your kindness is for her, not for me.”

“Her request has nothing to do with why I’m here, or why I’m trying to soothe your skin,” Rey replied and she tugged at the chain at his wrists, dragging them down to his lap. With a deep breath and shaking hands, she unbound them. He stared down at his wrists. 

They were rawer than his ankles, cracked and bleeding. She took up the towel again, took his sword hand in hers and began to wipe away the scabbed blood. “You’re a traitor to my king,” she said simply. “And it is for you to decide whether you will know his justice or his mercy. A mother’s wish has no place in all this.”

“And what is your  _ king’s _ wish?” Kylo demanded. 

“My king’s wish will be whatever I wish it in this regard,” Rey replied. “He wished once that you and I would wed. If I bring him your head or bring him news of our wedding,” Kylo made a choking noise, “I’m sure he’d be equally pleased.”

“You wish to  _ wed _ me?” He sounded dazed.

She shrugged. “I wish for an avenue that will bring the stormlands to my king,” she said calmly. “Your lords gave you up. And either they’ll give me up just as quickly the moment they can, or I must outmaneuver them. I’ve fought too many battles to think that my position here is anything short of precarious. One sign of weakness and it will be me naked in chains. I wish to avoid that. If you do not wish to return to the riverlands, to see your mother again, then fine. I will not make you. If you feel this is your place, then I give you the choice to share it with me. But if you refuse, then it will be for my king to decide your fate.”

And his lips curled into a smile. “So you are wooing me, is that it my lady?” She couldn’t tell if he was mocking or not.

“I show you what kindness I can that you may think me not a monster. I will not see you battered or harmed or humiliated regardless of what you decide.”

“Is it truly a choice?” he asked.

“Yes,” Rey said. “It is. I’ll not force you.”

“And yet if I refuse I face your king’s justice.”

“A king who may listen to your mother’s pleas for your life. But he is the one who will decide that amongst his high lords, not me. Take my kindness and my honesty as I have taken yours.”

“I haven’t been kind to you,” Kylo replied bitterly.

“You’ve been honest with me though, have you not?” she asked and she sat up a little straighter. “I have seen it in your eyes. You haven’t been lying to me.”

And to her surprise, he sagged in the seat before her. “No, I haven’t been,” he said quietly. “Because you have shown me more kindness and respect than my lords have done, than—”

He cut himself off and she saw his cheeks pinken. “Than Snoke did,” she said quietly.

And when he looked at her again, it was with the eyes of a wounded animal. And Rey surged up so she was on her knees now, her hands resting on his, her heart in her throat. “He wasn’t kind to you,” she told him. “You know it, down in your heart. You know he didn’t love you. And perhaps your parents didn’t treat you well, perhaps your uncle tried to murder you. I can’t know the truth of that beyond what you say and what they say. But I do know that Snoke didn’t have it in him to be kind to anyone. He claimed you for a son, but could he have loved you as one? If he was cruel to you?”

She ran her hand along the scar on his knee again and Kylo swallowed, his throat bobbing as his eyes continued to flick between hers. He tried to lick his dry, split lips moist again, but Rey could see—so very clearly—that he was on the retreat. 

So why was he bending his head to brush his lips to hers? If he was retreating? Her hands tightened on his knees, her lips parted in surprise, and she was all too aware that, beneath her cloak, she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

It was a slow kiss, a lingering one. It started hesitatingly, but when she didn’t break away, he grew more confident. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, and the hand she’d been trying to soothe came up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. When he pulled away, though, there was no confidence in his eyes. Only confusion.

“What was that for?” Rey asked him.

“You’re the one who proposed marriage.” He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at his lap. The hand that wasn’t on her shoulder—because the hand that had tucked her hair away was resting on her shoulder still—was bunching her cloak there. “I wanted to see if I would hate it.”

“And did you?” she asked quietly.

“No,” he whispered. Then he looked down at his wrist and sighed. “Give me time to think, my lady.”

-

She gave him space. 

There was no triumphal feast in the great hall that night, though Hux had hinted there should be. She ate with her men before retreating into the bedchamber that had once been Snoke’s. She slept in a bed with red velvet hangings, the windows open, the smell of seasalt filling the room. 

Or rather, she tried to sleep.

She woke in moments throughout the night. The bed was too soft, the room too quiet, the sound of the sea didn’t sound as it had on Dragonstone. And when the pre-dawn light crept in through the window, she heard a knock on the door, firm and loud enough to wake her.

She clambered from the bed, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes and when she opened the door, she saw herself face to face with Kylo Ren. He looked like he had not slept. His bruises were fading slightly, but there was a dusting of hair on his chin, and his hair stuck out at odd angles. 

“My lord,” she said quietly and he stepped around her, into the bedroom that had once been his father’s. Clearly he cared not a whit for propriety, but Rey could hardly judge him for that; she didn’t much care for it either. She closed the door.

He went to the window, looking out over the sea again. Dawn light bled around him.

“I have been considering your proposition,” he said quietly. 

“And?” she asked.

“And I don’t understand why I trust you,” he said. “I shouldn’t. By rights—I should trust you less than I trust anyone else. But every word you say—I believe it for some reason. Why is that? Are you a witch who has cast a spell upon me?”

“If I were a witch, I would not wage war,” Rey said. “I wouldn’t have killed Snoke in combat, I wouldn’t have had to lay siege to your castle.”

He turned to face her. “Then what are you?” he asked her. “That I believe you? I do not trust readily. And yet I trust you?”

She took a step towards him, then another. He watched her approach until she was just inches away. “I’m human,” she said. “No more or less. I am what the gods have made me, and have made you. Perhaps they cut us from something similar, or perhaps not. But I am honest with you and vow always to be.”

And he bent his lips to hers again, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. His mouth opened against hers, his tongue rubbing along the seam of her mouth before pressing in. It was less lingering this time—and it left her breathless.

Thoughts flowed through her mind—that he was in her bedchamber, that it would be so easy to pull him back to the bed, to press her hands to him once again, to lose herself in the way her heart was racing just from the touch of his lips. But instead she pulled away and looked up at him.

“You’re slow to trust,” she said quietly. “Because of your uncle?”

He swallowed, then nodded. Rey sighed and reached forward to take his hand in hers. “I will not ask you to ride at his side, then,” she said. “Nor at your parents’ if you do not wish it. Do you believe me when I say that?”

He nodded slowly. He looked as though he was steeling himself. “More than when Snoke said it.” He swallowed. “He was never kind to me. Not even when I went to him in distress, went to him for protection after my uncle. He was never kind.” And he was blinking as though there were tears just at the corners of his eyes. “And I don’t necessarily need kindness to be strong. I don’t need it—”

“Yes you do,” Rey said firmly. “Everyone needs kindness. It makes us stronger, not weaker.” She thought of Finn, the endless kindness he had shown her, and how she was better for it. 

He was staring at her, drinking her in in the glowing red light of dawn, and though her hair was a mess, and she wore a dirty tunic, she felt beautiful in his eyes.

So she did in the end draw him to bed. She brought his lips to her lips, his hands to her hips, guided him onto the mattress and held him close to her heart as his skin brought heat to hers. 

The sun kept rising even as their hearts settled. She wove her fingers through his dark hair, his head on her chest. 

“I would marry you,” he said quietly. “I should say the words, not just feel them. I would keep you safe from them all, as you have endeavored to keep me safe from my own heart. Because that is what you’ve done.” His voice was full of wonder and when he looked up at her, there was such a softness to his brown eyes.

“Then we will marry,” Rey said. “And keep one another safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> [here i am!](http://linktr.ee/crossingwinter)


End file.
